There and Back Again
by Chuchi Otaku
Summary: Ron was able to save Fred's life during the Battle of Hogwarts at the price of his own. When he was given a choice to return to the past, Ron picks the door to go back and save as much lives as he could. Nobody said it would be easy, especially for a jaded 17 year old war veteran, but by Merlin, Ronald Bilius Weasley will try. *A Ron-centric time travel fic*
1. Wizarding War: How It All Began

In light of the many time travelling fanfics but so little of them being about Ron, I decided to take my own spin at it. Let's see where this one goes.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter in any shape or form. The honor goes to Ms. Rowling.

* * *

For the first time in what felt like ages, Ron felt a surge of hope.

His situation was no less bleak than when the whole war began, of course. The Death Eaters are still relentless in their attack, and some part of his mind was aware of friends and acquaintances falling over like flies in the background.

But behind the death and gloom hanging in the air like a thick curtain were all important slivers of small triumphs.

They were finally turning things around. It may have nearly killed them in the process, but he, Harry and Hermione were finally able to destroy the horcrux in Ravenclaw's diadem. He and Hermione were able to destroy the horcrux in Hupplepuff's cup earlier as well. Now all they need is to kill that snake and Harry can finally beat You-Know-Who and end this stupid war!

Best of all, after years of estrangement and in the middle of the raging battle, the Weasley family was finally complete again.

When he first saw his older brother Percy stumbling into the Great Hall before them, a disbelieving Ron thought he had every right to feel righteously angry and cruelly smug, that, after all this time, just when his precious Ministry of Magic had all but crumbled to nothing would Percy come crawling back to the family he essentially abandoned, tail between his legs and begging for the forgiveness and acceptance he did not deserve.

But then, face to face with the Weasley's lost son, Ron felt none of those things, nothing but overwhelming relief and a touch of happiness. The stony wall that was his face will not betray it, but Ron was grateful that Percy had returned because, pompous git or not, he was family and if there's one thing Ron learned throughout all this is that you should never give up on family or the ones you love even if they made the most horrid mistakes.

Harry and Hermione taught him that much.

Besides, deep down, a huge part of Ron really did miss his older brother, posh talk, awkward know-it-all-isms and all that, just like the rest of his family. The easy way Fred and George shook off past hurts like it never happened proved it.

It was with a united front that the Weasleys are up and showing the Death Eaters who's boss, and by Merlin, Ron will do everything he can to make sure that nothing will break up his family—Harry and Hermione included—ever again.

Not if he had anything to say about it.

So when the sight of Death Eaters tearing past one of the walls of Hogwarts and coming for Percy and Fred came to view, Ron was quick to his feet, wand aloft.

Stay away from my family, you sick motherfuckers!

"STUPEFY!"

A jet of light zoomed past Fred's head, hitting a masked Death Eater square on the chest.

"Nice shot, Ronnie!" Fred, ever the tease even in the midst of a death defying battle, laughed as he raised his own wand at several opponents. "Relashio!"

"Come on!" Harry shouted after a quick hex on a couple of Death Eaters. "We have to move!"

"Go on! We'll hold them off!" From Ron's periphery, he saw Percy fire a couple of jinxes to one of their attackers. The hood slipped from the man's face as he reeled back from Percy's attack, revealing a long face and streaked hair.

Thicknesse! Ron snarled in recognition.

"Hello Minister!" Percy shouted over another neatly fired jinx straight to the man's chest. "Did I mention I'm resigning?"

"You're joking, Perce!" Fred shouted, struggling to stand after beating several Death Eaters at the price of three stunning spells to his limbs. He and Ron had to crack a grin at the sight of Thicknesse growing spines all over his body like a sea urchin. "You actually _are_ joking, Perce…I don't think I've heard you joke since you were—"

Then it happened.

Ron didn't know why, or how he knew where to look, other than it felt like a pull to the back of his neck when he saw it: a Death Eater aiming an unsteady wand with a roar of "Bombarda Maxima!"

The wand was so wobbly that it barely missed Fred, but to Ron's horror, the spell hit the wall right above his brother's head instead, and with a loud boom, the wall heaved.

The world seemingly slowed down, the sounds of spells and screams muted by the roar of anguish and desperation ringing in his ears, as he willed his legs to move, to do anything to reach his brother who was smiling without a care, not knowing the threat of death careening from above.

No, no, not now! Not when his family was finally together again! Not when they were so close to winning this damnable war!

"Fred!"

And then several things happened at once: Ron felt himself hit solid warmth that was quickly knocked out of the way, heard a loud grunt followed by a forceful slam of something hard, cold and heavy, blinding pain, smothering darkness and a chorus of terrified screams.

" _RON!"_

* * *

The world, for some reason, was awfully quiet.

It was the first thing Ron became aware of as the consciousness ebbed back into his senses. He lying facedown, his body oddly light yet too weak to move and his cheek pressed against a smooth, cool surface that reminded him of marble.

Wait, marble?

"Weasley."

W—what? Ron's heart did a lurch at the familiar tone, flat and unfeeling. That voice, it can't be…?

The hem of black robes came to view just as Ron managed to roll off the floor into a sitting position to meet a pair of gazing twin dark pools. "S—Snape?!"

Right before Ron stood his old potions Professor who appeared quite different somehow. If anything, Snape looked a bit younger but there was no mistaking the perpetual scowl or the hard lines that came with it marring the sallow, gaunt face and greasy shoulder length black hair.

"The displeasure is mutual, Weasley, I can assure you." Severus Snape drawled, his voice now colored with obvious disdain.

"But, but what are you doing here?" Ron spluttered, unconsciously backing away from the tall bat-like man. "And where the bloody hell are we, anyway?"

"I would not know, Weasley, you tell me." Snape said curtly before his face curled to distaste. "And for Merlin's sake, put some clothes on!"

"What are you—huh?" It was then that Ron realized, looking down, that he was indeed naked. Right in front of Snape! Holy shit, what he wouldn't kill for even just a decent robe right about now.

But as quickly as he thought it, a simple red robe appeared out of nowhere, draping his shoulders. Bug eyed but not the one to question what was shielding what remained of his dignity, Ron quickly pulled it closer. "What the hell was that about?"

Snape sighed from his hooked nose. "We are in the recesses of your consciousness, you fool. Should you not know more about your own mind than me?"

"Consciousness? My own mind?" Ron echoed while turning his head, recognizing his surroundings for the first time, alternating squares of black and white as far as the eye can see with two stone doors and two rows of familiar statuesque pieces on either end. "Is this a chess set?"

"Your power of deduction is astounding." Snape answered dryly.

Ron ignored him. "But if we're in my head, then what are you doing here? You're one of the last people on Earth I'd ever want to dream about!"

"I said that this is within your own mind, Weasley, not that I was a part of it." Snape drawled. "As for why I am here, it is primarily because we share the same miserable state."

"The hell is that supposed to mean?"

Snape groaned. "Think, Weasley. Where are you really supposed to be?"

Ron frowned as he strained his mind to remember. Where am I supposed to be? The last thing I remember was being in the Room of Requirement, finding the Diadem, the Fiendfyre, the Death Eaters, Percy and Fred…

"FRED!" Ron cried out as the memories all came rushing back to him. "Bloody hell, Fred! The wall and that Death Eater—what happened?! I have to know if he's OK."

"Calm down, Weasley. Your brother is safe, considering the circumstances, which is more than I can say for you." Snape said coolly.

"He's…OK?"

"I don't like repeating myself, Weasley."

"Oh thank Merlin!" Ron said happily, again ignoring Snape's irritated snap. "For a minute, I thought I was too late. But not that I'm not happy about it, but that still doesn't explain why I'm here."

There was a pause before Snape replied. "You are here because unlike your brother, no one was able to save you."

Ron felt like he was dropped in a bucket of iced water. "What?"

"You were able to push him out of the way of the wall, but in turn, caused the debris to fall onto you instead." Snape elaborated, his voice uncharacteristically something akin to gentle. "Potter and your friends were able to retrieve you from the rubble, but by then it was far too late."

The air around them seemed to ripple, and then, before Ron, a scene flashed: Harry, Hermione and his brothers kneeling around Ron's fallen form caked with dust and crimson from a huge head wound, blue eyes fixed unseeingly to the sky.

The voices that came with the sight were garbled, but the emotion behind them was undeniable.

"No—no—no!" The anguish in Percy's voice made Ron's knees quake. "No! Ron! No!"

"Don't you dare do this, Ronnie!" Fred—his strong, witty and at times cruelly mischievous brother—reduced to a sobbing mess of denial. "If this is one fucked up joke, I swear I'm going to—!"

Hermione was gripping Ron's cold hand with a wail not unlike that of a wounded animal's. And Harry, the hope of the Wizarding World who lost far too much for its sake, was far too still, wand clenched in his fist, his eyes shining but unyielding of their tears, seemingly unaware of the war erupting around them.

No, Harry, please! Ron found himself begging at his best friend's reflection. "Snap out of it, Harry! Get them out of here. There's nothing you can do for me but you can still save them! Get them out!"

Another loud boom pierced the air before Harry had seemingly heard Ron's pleas. "Fred, Percy…we have to go. We can't do anything for him. We're going to—!"

"NO! We're not leaving him!" Percy cried back. "Ronnie, oh Merlin, Ronnie, please—!"

"Stupefy!" Hermione screamed, whipping her wand to fire at an incoming arcomantula. To the group's horror, more spiders came running out of the hole in the wall, all gigantic with jerky legs and flashing pincers.

"Let's move, NOW!" Ron watched dazedly as Harry pushed Hermione forward before dragging Ron's limp body by the armpits away from the fallen rock and giant spiders.

He watched with watery eyes as Percy and Fred helped Harry lay his body at a protected niche, watched as Percy laid a trembling hand on his face with a choked sob while Fred whirled around with an air of a raging bull looking for a target.

It took only a second.

"ROOKWOOD!" Fred roared, tearing off to the direction of the tall Death Eater at the distance, ignoring Hermione's cries, with Percy on his heels not a moment later. Both brothers' wands were at the ready and their eyes burning with a dangerous cacophony of rage and grief.

"NO! Damn it, Fred, Perce, you bloody prats!" Ron screamed in the reflection but to no avail. The last thing he saw was Percy and Fred firing hexes at the stunned Rookwood before the memory faded. Ron hardly noticed as he sank to the floor, arms around his trembling form, the horrid reality of his situation crushing at his very soul.

He was dead. Ronald Bilius Weasley was dead.

And he had never felt so barren of hope.


	2. Wizarding War: Neither Dead nor Alive

Err, hi? It's been a while? *hides behind chair*

I deeply apologize for the delay for this chapter. For some reason, I developed a severe case of writer's block for this one and could not make it past the first two paragraphs for the longest time. Very bad Chuchi, I know, and I thank you guys for your patience with me on this one.

On a brighter note, many, many thanks to those who gave this story a try. I am truly honored and I hope you guys will love what's coming next. This next chapter will be rather long to make up for the months that have passed without an update. Once again, reviews and suggestions are highly appreciated.

Flames will be used to roast marshmallows for my s'mores.

* * *

I'm…dead?

Ron didn't know how long he had been on the ground, on all fours, mouth agape in wordless gasping. He wasn't aware of anything save for the one dreadful thought bouncing back and forth in his head.

I'm dead?

It wasn't that he was completely unprepared for the possibility. Granted, he was not the type to think over death and dying—or anything remotely deep, for that matter—, but considering that he was at war where the chances of dying were rather high, Ron had somewhat come into terms with it _possibly_ happening.

Keyword being somewhat.

The bitch known as Life, however, had other ideas.

And this, _this_ by far, was one of the grandest it has had so far in the fuckiest uppest sense.

"How long are you planning to sit there gaping like a miserable fool, Weasley?"

 _I'm dead and stuck with Snivellus FUCKING Snape, of all people?!_

That kicked Ron's infamous temper back into action. "Well, what were you expecting me to do? Break into a dance singing about rainbows and pygmy puffs?!"

But Snape merely stared stonily at the younger wizard, making Ron's face burn bright red with gnashed teeth at the lack of response. "I just found out I died, you greasy arsehole! Dead as a bloody doornail, without getting past eighteen and hardy worth anything!"

"Weasley—"

"I wanted to get a good job. I was gonna help everyone rebuild. I wanted to settle down with _her_!" Ron jabbed his index finger harshly at his former professor with each statement. "But because of your bloody war and that bastard of a half-blood Voldemort, I've lost all that and now my friends and family are still fighting while I'm stuck in this rut with _you_ of all people being an useless sod. An utterly. Absolutely. Useless. _SOD!_ "

A tense pause hung heavily in the air for too long before Ron turned away from Snape with a hand pressed to his scrunched up face and his burning eyes.

No he was not going to cry. He was not going to cry in front of the greasy old bat! He was a Gryffindor and a Weasley, goddamnit! And Gryffindors and Weasleys are never weak, snivelling crybabies—!

"Had enough yet, Weasley?"

Oh, Snape just gets off from being the world's biggest dickhead, doesn't he? Ron snarled darkly. "Why you—you one big son of a—!"

But the older man's wand was at his throat in a matter of seconds. "If you wish not to be hexed to oblivion then awaken in a full body bind, I suggest you keep that tongue of yours in check. I've been gracious enough to allow you your previous tantrum. Do not think that I would be willing to suffer another second of it."

"Do your worst, you bastard!" Ron growled back with every bit of fury he could muster. "As if there's something you can do that can change anything! You can't make me any worse off than I already am so go right ahead, you traitorous git!"

Blazing blue challenged bottomless black in what seemed like forever before Snape spoke again. "Then would you rather have it the other way?"

The almost softness in the other man's voice threw Ron for a loop. "H-huh?"

"You are here because you made the choice of saving your brother over watching him die." Snape clarified with a stony expression. "Are you beginning to regret that decision now? Would you rather have him here in your place so you could live that life you think this war has stolen from you?"

"What the hell? Of course not, I—!" At that, all of the fight seemingly banished from Ron's body.

That's right. Ron was dead and here because he saved Fred—the usually bloody insufferable yet incredibly witty, just as talented and at times, remarkably insightful and obnoxiously protective arse Fred. The guy may have been a right git to him for much of his life, but Fred was Ron's brother and Ron would give his life for any of his brothers in a heartbeat.

And, all things considered in hindsight and all honesty, Ron was sort of glad that it was him who died instead of Fred. Ron may have his own dreams and wants for a long life ahead, but Fred had what it took to reach further, do far more, than the youngest Weasley boy ever could…

SNAP!

Ron gasped when he felt the sharp slap of Snape's wand against his face. "OW! Hey, what—?!"

"Playing hero to save your brother may have been so utterly Gryffindor it is sickening, but you spitting on the very sacrifice you made is even more unbearably pathetic!" Snape cut in coldly, jabbing his wand back under Ron's chin. "You dove headfirst into this war as an of age fighter so at least show some iota of maturity! And instead of whining like a miserable child over what you have lost, open your eyes to what is around you. Then you might actually see what there is that you can still do something about."

Ron blinked owlishly then creased his eyebrows. "What I can—? Last time I checked, Snape, I'm already dead so unless there is something I can do down here that can somehow help everyone fight this war, then the most I can be is a ghost. And we both know how awfully useful ghosts are!"

But then again, an impish side of the red head piped up, if I _can_ turn into a ghost, I can float around like a Peeves exclusive to Death Eaters. I mean, I don't know if I can kill anyone, but at least I can make things harder for them. Prank 'em, chuck some dungbombs or something…

"If you would reign that temper in, I might actually get to the point of why I am here in this abominable pit you call your mind." Snape snapped.

Ron was thrown for another loop. Right, that reminded him… "Wait, what ARE you doing here, anyway? If I wouldn't even want to dream about you, then you're not really the first person in my list who I'd want to see when I die." And to be honest, you're pretty much not there.

Snape snorted at that. "And if you haven't been busy throwing a fit over everything without waiting for an explanation, you might have noticed that I never said that you were actually dead."

Ron felt his chest twist so tightly that he felt that he couldn't breathe for a second. "What do you mean—? I'm not—I'm not—?"

"You are not dead, Weasley." Snape said after what felt like forever. "At least, not in the fullest sense of the word."

The marble hallway was so quiet that not even Ron's uneven breathing could be heard. But the younger wizard hardly noticed.

"I—I'm not dead?" Ron croaked, reduced to a gasping fit for the second time that hour. "I'm not—but how am I—? I saw—that time you showed me! The wall, I—I got Fred out! The wall fell on me! My head was leaking blood like a busted faucet and, hell, I wasn't even breathing! So how—?"

"When you are not running your mouth because of your atrocious temper, it will be because of your theatrics." If Snape were any less…Snape-ish, the man would have rolled his eyes at Ron's slipping and sliding jaw and shot up brows. "Have you ever thought that exerting more in controlling yourself and just listening may have worked for you better in the long run? That I may have gotten to my point sooner, for instance?"

Ron's cheeks immediately flared, both from anger and embarrassment. While he had to concede, grudgingly, that Snape had a point, does the guy really have to be such a dick about it?

Oh, right, Ron huffed mentally. I forgot who I was talking to for a second.

"You are not truly dead, Weasley, but you are not fully alive either." Snape went on, seeing that Ron was properly chastised. "As you have just witnessed, you have known physical death. Have been for more than an hour, based on what I have seen. However, your soul is still tethered to your body, albeit barely. This place is a representation of both your subconscious and the limbo, or the realm where souls neither dead nor alive remain until they cross a side."

Ron blinked when Snape finished, more confused than ever. "Is that even possible? Can someone really end up being not being completely dead? Can it happen to anybody? Wait, does that mean you are not dead too?"

Snape pursed his lips, making Ron momentarily worried that the man wouldn't explain further. "…It does not happen as often as many would like, for this realm, and everything that falls under it, is governed by something not entirely magical."

"Which is?"

"Some, like us, would claim that it is Death. Others would call it a God, or even fate or destiny. But what can be agreed upon is that it is a higher being that rules over life, how long one lives as well as when and how he will ultimately end. Many wizards may try to defy It, but Its design is undeniable.

"However, there are rare instances wherein that which that very design is…altered." Snape paused almost dramatically. "Instances such as yours."

Ron started when Snape's gaze bore directly into his. "Err, what?"

"Simply put, it is not your time to die yet. If it is anyone's, it was your brother, Fred Weasley's." Snape continued, ignoring the angry cry from the younger wizard. "However, you took the fall for him. For some reason, that put such a huge upset in the higher being's will that It deemed to give you a form of a second chance."

A second chance? Ron felt the stirrings of hope in his chest. "You mean, I can—I can go back? I can really come back to life again?"

"Your soul will be permitted to return to your body as if it had never left." The ginger haired teen would have whooped with joy if not for Snape's following statement. "But it will not be without a price."

"Price?" Ron repeated, the smile building in his face immediately dropping at that.

Snape pointed, and Ron turned to see a heavy looking stone door beyond the white chess pieces. "That door will lead you back to the land of the living, but once you make that choice, It will demand a form of compensation. You have known death in this realm, therefore, in order for you to return to the living, someone else must take your place.

"In other words, you will come back to life, and Death will take the soul of the one who should have died all along."

"You mean Fred?!" Ron gasped, wheeling around to glare at Snape. "Like I'll let that happen! I died so that my brother wouldn't, remember? What makes you or It think that I'll be fine with Fred taking my place?"

"Even if it would mean truly dying?" Snape asked with an arched brow. "Were you not whining earlier about everything you have lost by being dead? This is an opportunity for you to get everything back, and if I know you Gryffindor fools, I am sure your brother would be a willing sacrifice, as it was he who was meant to die, after all."

Ron did not even need a moment to think it over.

The prospect of returning to life, to be with his friends and family again, to see to the dreams he long held onto, was absolutely tempting. But if it meant losing Fred in the process, then Ron would rather stay dead. Nothing would be worth losing any of his friends or family.

"You can tell Death, God, Fate or whoever the hell It is that he can take his offer for me to come back in exchange for Fred and shove it up where the sun doesn't shine." Ron snarled with another finger jab at Snape. "I'm not going back if it would mean killing off Fred and that's that! You and It will just have to put up with me raising hell among you dead people because I'm not going anywhere!"

The hall was quiet again, and Ron waited with bated breath for the inevitable of Snape (or even Death Itself) whisking him to the afterlife and forever bar him from seeing his loved ones again until it was time for them to cross over.

An excruciating standstill until Snape spoke.

"Do you recognize where we are? What your limbo has taken form of?"

Well, that was unexpected. Nevertheless, Ron answered. "Err, I think this is the hall for McGonagall's trial? Back in First Year, to protect the Philosopher's Stone?"

"Then you also recall that this hall has _two_ doors, correct?"

"Well, duh. The one beyond the white pieces is the exit and the other one's where we came from." Ron shrugged, eyeing Snape strangely. "Why are you asking?"

"For everyone who passes through the limbo, the room that manifests becomes symbolic of both a turning point in their lives and the choices available to them. There is this one…" Snape hesitated as his face morphed a particularly sour look.

"His limbo was in a form of a train station, and his two choices involve boarding the train that will lead him to the afterlife or cross the barrier to return to the land of the living. Those are his choices because his fate could go either way: it was his time to die, yet he is also free to return.

"But for your case, you also have two choices. The white door," Snape pointed to the stone archway behind Ron. "As it is your way forward to the present you have missed, would have returned you to the land of the living. It would have been the most likely option at first glance, but it is not the only one available."

"The door behind the black pieces?" Ron glanced to the door that had been in the past the way by which he, Harry and Hermione entered McGonagall's transfigured chessboard.

"I do not know where that door will lead." Snape confessed, making Ron's gaze turn back to him. "What I am certain is that that door will definitely not lead you to death. The limbo is also connected to other realities, much like how a trunk of a tree is still connected to all its branches.

"Though, theoretically, I would wager that that door would lead you…back."

"Back?" Ron echoed. "What do you mean back?"

"Use your head, Weasley." Snape snapped irritably. "If one door will lead you forward to the present, bypassing all the events that you have missed while you were dead, what can a door that does the opposite do?"

Ron scrunched his forehead in several seconds of thought before finally, _finally_ , something clicked. "W-wait, you can't mean—?"

"Of course, this is all merely theory. I have no way of proving what I have just said nor do I care enough to try." Snape waved a hand. "But for someone who has the chance to regain his life and even change certain things for the better, if you are half the reckless pighead that your friend Potter is, I don't see why you wouldn't try."

"Don't call Harry a pighead, you git!" Ron snapped as he crossed his arms. "And why should I trust you? For all you know, you could be leading me into a trap! Just like how you tricked Dumbledore back at that tower!"

Snape's expression clearly screamed 'What sort of idiot did you leave me to deal with, Death?' when he replied. "If you continue to distrust me, then that is your choice. Whether you pick your own death, your brother's or another path entirely is not my concern. I am merely a guide that for some reason, was thought to be most appropriate for you. Whichever allegiance I may have had during the war will matter little here. As you have mentioned, I cannot make you any more dead than you already are, seeing as we are both ghosts."

"So you're actually—?"

"Yes, Weasley, I am already dead. I have long come to terms with it, but if I had the chance to go back, if I had the opportunity you have now, even if the possibility is so close to non-existent," Snape's lips curled downwards. "A man with too many regrets and nothing to lose would have taken it."

As the black haired man took a moment to draw a ragged breath, Ron suddenly found himself seeing the Death Eater in a different light. Back in his Hogwarts days, Snape had been nothing more than a sour bully of a Potions professor who played favorites blatantly, obsessed over taking over the Defense Against the Dark Arts teaching position for ages and was horrible to Harry and his friends at any given opportunity.

Not to say that Ron had conveniently forgotten what a foul arse Snape had been, but seeing the usually stoic, hard-faced man's mask crumble the slightest bit for traces of grief, pain and—dare Ron say it—longing to ease through…

Maybe there was more to Snape than Ron previously thought. Still, that doesn't answer Ron's final question.

"So why are you helping me?" Ron managed to voice it out. "You said it wouldn't matter to you no matter what choice I make. Then why is it as if you're trying to convince me to take that other door?"

The choice that you would have made for yourself if you could? Ron added silently.

Snape eyed Ron carefully before grunting. "My reasons are my own, and I do not owe you any explanation for them. I will however suggest that you learn something from what I have been telling you thus far and think over your decision carefully, for I will not give you another opportunity to change your mind. Now make your choice, Ronald Weasley, and make sure that you will not regret it."

The young wizard closed his eyes momentarily and begun weighing his options. Screw what Snape thinks or actually trust the man who may be more than just the traitor who killed Dumbledore?

Death or a possible chance to change the future and possibly save lives?

To die a miserable hero's death or becoming something more?

Ron's feet moved on their own before he had fully grasped where he was headed, but made no move to stop them.

He had already made his decision, because Snape was right. And all things considered, this was really the only way to—

SCHING!

"Woah, what the—?!" Ron barely managed to back away when the black pawns drew their swords to block his way to the backdoor. "Snape!"

And the old greasy bat—damn him!—had the gall to sneer dryly. "While I applaud that you have _finally_ made a decision, I never said choosing that door would be that easy. After all, were you not initially on the white side of this board?"

Ron gulped when the reality of the statement hit him as he gazed warily at the black pieces, particularly their tall, sword bearing Queen.

"Bloody hell…"

* * *

Ehehe, you guys didn't think it would be that easy too, did you?

It might seem that this prologue appears rather dragging, but there is a method behind my madness. I'm hoping to teach Ron a lot of things over the course of this fanfic and this upcoming fight will be an opportunity to teach one of them. So what do you guys think? Am I doing OK so far? I'd love to hear your thoughts. Reviews are golden!

Also of note, I am not British. I do try my best to write out this fanfic with their culture and language in mind (time appropriate, of course), I may miss out on some things that may offend British sensibilities. I apologize for that and would love to be corrected about it, if knowledgeable readers have the time. If not, I hope you will bear with me. Again. *sweatdrop*

Hopefully, I won't take too long with the next chapter. Until then, I wish you guys all the best and many thanks again for reading!


End file.
